Life of a bartender/wannabe writer. The weekend comes and the ‘it pays the bills’ job takes precedent. An apology to the followers I’ve gained in the past few days, I’m not being lazy. I’m still a toddler in the world of public blogging, and I’m not sure if it’s actually acceptable to pledge a weeklong series and not deliver.
I will, however, leave you with an anecdote from the night that I hope is humorous. A girl came into the bar tonight, ordered a round, ordered another round, didn’t tip on either. She came up for a third time and ordered a third gin and tonic. I make it, hand it to her, take the money (exact change again), and think the transaction is done.
I go back to, you know, actually making money and hear from the corner, “Sir… Sir, excuse me… My drink isn’t as strong as it was the first two times.” Of course, it’s that same broad who thinks that bartenders work for free.
I walk over, pretend I didn’t hear her, and ask what the problem is. She repeats herself. “Oh, well isn’t that a shame,” I replied. I was going to let the issue go and leave it at that, thinking the hint would be taken, but she pursued. “So what are you gonna do about that,” she asks?
“You got two options. One, take your drink and enjoy, or two, pay me more money and get a double. Sorry.”
“A double? No, I’m not doing that. I’m not paying more, that’s ridiculous!” she says.
I’ve had enough. “Oh, ridiculous, huh? What are you gonna do? Get mad and tip me?” She is stunned, but her two friends start laughing out loud and buy me a shot. One of them looks at her and says, “Told you this isn’t the bar to fuck with the ‘tenders.” Her friend was correct.
The moral of today’s story, or rather the two morals-
1. If your bartender thinks you’re an asshole, your friends probably do, too.
2. Tip your bartender. And if you choose to be one of those people that don’t tip your bartender, don’t be surprised when we don’t role out the red carpet for you and treat you like something special.